Nightmares That Stick In Your Mind Like A Sickness
by AviatorPilot
Summary: When Germany snaps, no one is safe. From bones breaking to pure cannibalism, what more could happen?
1. Nightmares

This was torture, these last few weeks. Every night, the same nightmare for a certain American. But this time, something was different.

It always started out like this:

America would be standing in the middle of a white marble-walled room, the floor made of neon blue and black glowing marble. There were torches on the wall, but they were never lit, leaving only the glow of the marble floor to light the entire room. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough that America could see a few feet in front of him. He would look from side to side, walking forward.

As soon as he started to walk, something would scream. It sounded strangely familiar to him, but from this far away from the voice, he couldn't tell who it was. He would stop, looking around again, only to come face to face with a sight of pure terror.

England stood before him, a bloody red smirk playing across his face, a knife in his hand that was dripping of blood. "Hello, America." He would say, the Brit's voice high pitched and filled with venom.

"E-England? Is that you?" He would ask, backing away a little but hearing the scream again, feeling a tugging at his ankle. He would look down, only to see what was screaming.

Canada.

America's eyes went wide, looking straight at the Canadian. Half of his body was ripped away, only leaving his blood-covered spine holding the two halves of the Canadian man together. The blonde's hair was matted with blood, the blue eyes filled with pain and terror as he looked into America's blue eyes. "H-Help me..." He would always call out weakly, the grip tightening.

America was at the brink of tears at this point, his mouth hanging open and his eyes big and terror-filled. He them would look to the Englishman, only seeing Germany standing in front of him instead, Canada now on top of a table. "What a fine specimen..." The German would say, his face straight. By now, light would be filling the room. But this time it was different. Only a small hanging light was shining, only letting off enough light so America could see his brother's mutilated body, blood pouring over the sides of the table like a waterfall. "He was a good little subordinate... Until he put his trust in you, America."

America tried pinching himself awake, but every time he pimched his pale skin, it would only send pain running up him. His blue orbs went wide. "Wh-Why am I not waking up?! This is all a nightmare! I know it!" He started to back away, only feeling hands go around his upper and lower body, deeming him immobile. He turned, seeing Italy and Japan, smirks playing across their faces.

"Awe!" Italy started. "Why don't you stay a while and play with us?"

Japan's smirk grew, pushing America into a chair, locking his arms and legs down with belts. "Yes. Germany here would like to show you what happens to countries that disobey him."

America struggled against the two, but it was useless. He couldn't get away. "Let me go!" He screamed, trying to get out of his bindings. "If this is a joke this isn't funny!"

Germany let out a chuckle. "Nein, my little American friend. You will watch as the one you love gets... Well..." He pulled on a leaver, Canada's right arm ripping off, blood splattering everywhere, white bone snapping with a sickening _CRACK!_ The Canadian's voice was gone, a silent scream coming from him, tears falling from his eyes. "Ripped apart by the stronger one."

America was now sobbing, wanting to close his eyes, wanting to be rid of this horrifying scene forever and just wake up. But every time he closed them, Italy would force them open. "No no, Mr. America. You have to watch, because soon enough it will be your turn to be up on that table with your brother."

America sobbed harder, watching as Germany pulled another leaver, forcing Canada's head up. "Now then, what shall we do to you now, Canada?" He put a gloved finger to his bottom lip in thought.

"Let him go you sick bastard or I swear to God I will-" America started but was interrupted by Italy slapping him across the face. "Now now, Mr. America. You should be quiet if you know what's good for you." The Italian's usual grin was across his face, his curl bouncing up and down.

"A-All of you are monsters!" America shouted, struggling again and being rewarded with a hard smack to the face by Japan.

Japan put a finger to his mouth, signaling for quiet. "You had better shut your mouth before we have to do it for you." He motioned with his hand at a separate table, a sewing kit sitting atop the slab of cold metal. This made America close his mouth, not willing to talk anymore in the fear of his mouth being sewn shut. Japan laughed. "Good boy, America."

"Quiet!" Germany shouted. "I want all of you quiet before I continue." The two subordinate countries then went quiet, their faces going straight and serious. The German country smirked, looking back to the Canadian, who was now in pieces. "Let me see..." He then got up, shuffling through some drawers and pulling out a knife. "Ah! Here it is!" Germany turned towards America, his dark smirk growing by the second. "Have you ever read Frankenstein, my dear boy?"

America growled at the German, narrowing his eyes. "Yeah, I have. Why do you ask?"

Germany chuckled, going over to Canada and placing the blade of the knife to his left arm."Well, let's say you... Reverse it." He started, dragging the blade gently across the Canadian's shoulder. "What if you took apart something living? What would happen then? Would all of the internal organs still work? Or would they all die immediately?"

Canada whimpered, looking to America, his eyes filled with fear. "America... Please don't let him do this to me..." Tears fell from the blue eyes on the Canadian's face. "I don't want to die..."

America's eyes were now filled with tears as he watched his brother being tortured, unable to do anything. "I-I'm sorry, Canada..." Was all the American could say as he felt his lap grow wet with tears. "I'm so sorry..."

Germany laughed at the crying American, pressing a button on a control panel wiith a smirk. A clicking sound was heard, then a scream. America looked away as he watched his only brother's spine break, finally ending the other's pain and suffering forever. Germany chuckled again, watching the life go out of the Canadian's eyes. "Oh, what a pity. I wanted so much to hear him scream more. But I guess it cannot be helped." He them turned to America. "I guess I'll just have to move onto my other specimen."

Italy laughed his usual infectious laugh, grabbing America's throat, having Japan unbuckle the bindings around the American man's arms and legs. "You better not move, Mr. America. Or it will not end well for you." The smaller country, despite his weak looks, pulled America up out of the chair with one hand, throwing him over to Germany." Here you go, Germany! I think it's time for him to get what he deserves after all of these years of suppressing us." The Italian laughed, looking at Japan. "Let's go get some pasta and watch, Japan!" The Japanese man nodded with a smirk. It was frightening to see the usually non-emotional man smirk or smile, even more frightening that he was actually helping out with this. The two exited, laughing and talking up a storm.

The German looked at the American, his face filled with dark thoughts. He walked over to America, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the table. "Do not move." Germany commanded, strapping him down to the table and rummaging through the drawers beside the table.

America's eyes were wide, his breaths coming out ragged and unsteady. "Why are you doing this to us, Germany?! What did we do to you to deserve this torture and harm?!" He was now fighting his new bindings, wriggling and kicking and clawing at the metal table below him, doing anything anf everything to get out. His brother's blood now stained his brown jacket red, the liquid still warm. America looked around for Canada, seeing half of his body, the upper half, next to the table, the lower half in the garbage. America growled, glaring at Germany. "You sick bastard! He didn't do anything to you! He didn't do anything to anyone and yet you still killed him! That's sick! As soon as I get out of here I'm going straight to your government and telling them how you treated another country! You hear me?!"

Germany walked over to him, a box of nails and a hammer in his hands. "Really now? You would do that just because I got rid of a country that no one payed any attention to?" He took a nail out, placing it on America's left hand. He shook his head a little, placing the head of the hammer to the nail. "Maybe he wanted to die. Have you thought of that?" The German man then readied the hammer, slamming it down and friving the nail into the center of the trapped man's hand.

America screamed in pain, the nail forcing his hand down. He then looked to Germany, tears falling from his eyes. "P-Please... Just let me go! I won't tell anyone what happened to him! I just want to go home!"

The German just shook his head with a smirk, taking another nail from the box, placing the pointed end to his right hand. "But that would be no fun, my American friend." He laughed, slamming the hammer down, nailing the hand to the table, listening as the American screamed and wailed in pain. "And, despite my serious demeanor, I do like to have fun. See? Isn't this fun, America?" The man was definately snapped, his eyes filled with enraged joy as he continued to take nails out of the box and hammering them into America's body. Now that the American was bleeding, Germany took an empty vial from a drawer below him, catching some blood in it and sealing it shut. "That could be useful later."

America was now bleeding up and down his stomach, his face penetratrated with silver nails. His mouth was now nailed shut, teeth probably broken and mouth bleeding horribly. All he could do was cry, muffled screams and wails coming from him. "Now you can't tell anyone about this, not like I would let you leave here alive." Germany laughed satanically, his eyes filled with sadistic laughter. "You will leave here like your brother, in pieces."

America's eyes went wide, trying to wriggle out of his bindings but the nailes holding him down, so every time he moved the skin around the nailes would rip and tare apart. He tried opening his mouth, only ripping it apart. He could finally scream out, but the skin and flesh that was attatched to his lips now ripped and torn apart, hanging from the bone underneath like shredded could easily see the white bone that was beneath the other parts of his skin, now red with crimson blood. "Look at what you did!" America shouted, looking like he was turning into a skeleton, starting with his face. "Look at my face! It's destroyed! I can already tell and I'm not even looking at it."

"You are correct, America." Germany said with a laugh. "Your face looks horrible. Especially the nail in your teeth." He reached down with his hand, grabbing the nail firmly. "Let me take care of that for you."

America's blue eyes went wide. "N-No. Please, just leave it. I-It's fine! Really!" He was trying to discourage the man from ripping the nail out of his teeth, which would definitely break them apart. The German only laughed. He ripped the nail out, smiling as he heard the teeth around the nail chipping and breaking apart. America now wailed in pain, his head going back and forth in pain.

"Hm. Not the reaction I was going for, but it works all the same." Germany laughed a little, hooking metal pegs with copper wire attachments to the nails, fiddling with some sort of panel in the background. "Let's see of this works to bring out that reaction I want from you."

America looked at the pegs and wires, then to the obviously snapped German man. "W̸h-What reaction do you want from me...?" He asked with a shaky voice. He knew that the reaction the other wanted out of him was probably painful beyond belief, but he asked anyways just for the sake of not getting hurt without knowing what was going to happen to him. The German turned, a box in his hand. "What's that for?" America asked, his mouth bleeding profusely.

"I want to hear you scream in pain and beg me to stop." Was his answer. As he finished his words, he flipped a switch on, sending volts of electricity through the wires and pegs to the nails and through America's body, making the American man scream in pure pain. Germany laughed at the pain, turning the voltage up. "I bet that must hurt, doesn't it?" He didn't wait for an answer before moving on. "Now you know the pain that I went through when your men tortured me at the end of WWII. There was nothing but pain and torture for me for months, scars ran up my back and bled every day, even now." He walked over to the pain-filled American man, lifting his head up by his hair. "You have no idea how much I have wanted to do this. For years and years." He laughed a little. "The one night you leave your door unlocked!"

America gasped. "S-So that means this isn't a nightmare... This is-"

"Actually happening?" Germany smirked. "You are absolutely correct, America. This is actually happening to you, and I hope that this nightmare sticks in your brain like a sickness for the rest of your life."

America gasped again, remember hearing that phrase somewhere, but not remembering where. "I've heard that somewhere before..."

Germany lifted a brow. "Really now? Hm... Maybe Canada said it a few times?" He asked with a smirk, like he knew something but he wasn't going to tell for anything. "Well, you can't ask him now, now can you? Unless, of course, you were to die today and then you could ask him wherever it is you people go when you die." He then pulled a knife on America, cutting into his shirt, reducing it to pieces and scraps on the floor and table. He then took a red marker, marking with dotted lines where he was to cut. The dotted lines went from America's chest to his V-line.

The blue eyes of the man on the table went wide, his shattered and torn face filling with fear. The white bone of his mouth and jaw went open and closed in fear. "P-Please! Let me go! I don't want to die! I'm sorry that my soldiers hurt you, but you hurt us first!" He hoped that this lie would be convincing enough to make the other reconsider, letting him go and apologizing for what he had done to him. But, he was mistaken. Sorely mistaken, as a matter of fact.

Germany just laughed, taking the knife and digging the blade -which America could now see was rusty and chipped- into his chest. The rust was sharper than the blade, which made him howl in pain. He shut his eyes tight, wanting so bad for this feeling to go away. Soon, he would be in pieces, just like his brother. But... Maybe this was happening for a reason? Maybe... Maybe he was meant to die like this, pain and torture immanent.

Nah.

The knife dragged down his chest, to his V-line, following the dotted line. America again screamed in pain, gritting his teeth together in pain. "God! This fucking hurts! Stop it, you goddamn bastard!" He screamed at the German man above him, only hearing laughs and chuckles come from him. "I'm not the one you should be punishing! It was my men you should have been punishing!"

Germany laughed again, stabbing America harshly through the right side of his chest, right next to his heart but not piercing the vital organ. America screamed, bleeding heavily. "It's a little too late for that, seeing as they are all either dead or extremely close to death. And the ones that are extremely close to death won't even be worth torturing." He smiled, the smile filled with darkness and evil, enveloping America in fear. "They would be dead in a matter of minutes instead of hours or days, unlike you, whom I can torture for days and even years on end and you will not die." He put a finger to his lips in deep thought. "That is actually a good idea... CHINA!"

A Chinese man came trembling towards the table from a door in the corner of the room, blood streaking his pulled back hair, cuts and scratches and holes going up and down the man. "Y-Yes?" He asked, his voice raspy and terrified of the German. He looked to America, gasping. "A-America? Where's Canada? I saw Germany take him in-" The man was cut off by a gunshot, a new hole in his left arm, which bled like crazy. He grit his teeth, not screaming or wailing.

"No talking to the other prisoner!" He yelled. "Take America to a cell. And chain his arms together so he doesn't get any ideas about escaping." Germany let America out of his bindings, pulling him off of the metal table, ripping the rest of the nails out of him as painfully as possible as he pulled America off of the table. America's eyes were filled to the brim with tears, some falling to the floor, mixing with the crimson of his blood and draining into a nearby drain. "And hurry up! He's starting to get my floor bloody."


	2. Imprisonment

China was now leading America down a dimly lit hall, the floor not made from the blue stone like the torture room, but made of a blood red stone of some sort. Whether this was actual blood or just the colour of the stone, the man probably would never know, seeing as how his mindset was at him dying in the next 48 hours.

The Chinese man looked back at the American, who had his head down. "I know I am not supposed to speak with you..." He started. "But I was wondering... How in the hell did you get into this mess? How did he catch you?"

America looked to China, his smile that he usually wore, full of cockiness and play, now gone, replaced by the most morbid face that he had ever tried to stifle. "What do you mean, 'How did he catch me?' I thought I was fucking sleeping, that's how. I've had the same nightmare for weeks, and it was just like this. So, being the person I am, I thought it was just another nightmare." He sighed, his heart all but broken in half. "I guess my idiocy has landed me in a real pickle, huh?"

China shook his head a little. "That's what I thought too..." He shook slightly, looking down. "H-He took Russia... A-And-"

The man was cut off by screaming, which sounded very much Russian, making the man in front of America break down and sob. "They are torturing him... Aren't they...?" America asked, putting a hand on China's shoulder. "That's why you aren't fighting back, right?"

He nodded, drying his eyes on the back of his bloody and torn-up hands, looking back to America and hugging him. "They know about us... That's why they're torturing him... They told Russia's boss about him being gay... And..."

America cut him off, bringing the man in and embracing him warmly. "I know... It's hard... Seeing the one you loved being tortured to death. At least they are keeping him alive, so if someone finds this place, you and him can be together on the outside. As for my brother..." He sighed, trying out a smile but having it drop five seconds later. He didn't think anything was worth smiling over now, not even the future, good or bad. "Well... You know."

"Yes. I know. And I am so sorry that it had to happen to someone as sweet as the Canadian."

This sent America over the edge. "No one ever noticed my brother!" He started to sob uncontrollably. "But when he did have someone notice him, it was to watch him fucking die! How must that have made him feel... To be ignored until his death...?" He was yelling at the Chinese man, tears streaming down his face, into the openings in his cheeks, and into his mouth from there. "He must have felt so worthless..."

China looked to him, before hearing a shot ring out, China falling to the ground. America's eyes went wide, letting him slide from his arms as he saw Romano in front of him, gun pointed out, smoke coming from it. "Germany said no talking. And that means no talking." He growled, walking up to America. America tried to run, but the butt of the Southern Italian's gun connected with his temple, hard, a cracking sound ringing out through the hall. "No running." He said sternly, grabbing the man by the arm and yanking him towards a cell, throwing him to the ground of the cell, slamming the heavy metal door closed. He locked it from the outside, walking away.

The American looked around at his cell. The entire thing was just a big block of metal, cold and colour less and small. The only thing America could do was stand up, walk three feet to the small bed next to him, and turn a tight circle. It was not big at all, but he was afraid of what would happen if it was big. He shivered, standing and walking over to the small bed in the corner, sitting and putting his head in his hands. "What in the hell did I do to deserve this...?"

"Maybe if you didn't take the lives of innocent German men, he wouldn't be torturing you like this." A heavily accented voice rang through the dark space. Maybe this cell was bigger than he thought it to be at first. A man of obvious German decent sat up from an opposite bed, his hair as white as snow, his skin almost glowing in the darkness.

Prussia.

Prussia grinned, lifting his left arm, his right one gone. "That wouldn't have pissed him off so much."

America starred in disbelief that the Prussian man was in here as well, his eyes wide. "When did he put you in here, Prussia?" America asked, clearly curious at why the German would but his older brother in a circumstance like this. "Aren't you, like, family or something?" He then looked to the missing appendage, what was left of his recognizable mouth handing open. "And he did that to you..."

The Albino man shrugged, his crimson eyes -or eye, as America noticed that he was missing his left eye- shone brightly despite the lack of lighting in their shared cell. "I disobeyed him. This is what I deserve if I disobey, right?" He leaned against the wall, listening for a brief moment as a very clear Spanish-accented wail came from another room very close by. "Poor bastard..." He said, shaking his head a little, closing both eyes as he preformed his actions. "They do not know that if they cooperate they will go free. All of us will. That is why I am not fighting against it."

America stared at him in utter disbelief, his blue eyes dulled down by the amount of murder he had seen that day. "How can you even think of saying that?"

"Pardon me?"

He growled some. "China was going along with whatever that German... Bastard... Is doing, and I held him as he got shot! All because he was worrying about that Commie! And you think that your little brother is going to let you out all because you cooperate with him?!" He was screaming, which granted him yelling and the door to the cell being beaten with a gun. He quieted down and continued. "My brother died today because of him. That man should be locked up somewhere! He needs help. Very badly. And so do Italy and Japan. They need just as much if not more help than Germany does." He scoffed a little, leaning back against the wall as well, looking straight at the man across from him. "You must have been more drunk all the time than we all thought you were, killed off a few thousand brain cells." He closed his eyes, taking a breath as he said the next words.

"He will kill us all."


	3. The Truth

Prussia stared at America, frozen as these words struck him. "What do you mean he isn't going to let me out?!" He yelled, anger boiling up inside of him. "He has to! He promised me he would!"

America just chuckled. "He promised you a lie." He returned, taking a shaking breath. "He lied straight through his teeth to you and you took it like a bitch, didn't you, Prussia?" He shook his head, mimicking what the Prussian had done moments ago. "You poor, gullible bastard. You actually believed a man like that? What I wouldn't do to live in your happy little world all the time."

The Albino man looked over to his missing arm, putting his hand over his missing eye. His mouth dropped, his entire body shaking. "O-Oh my god... I actually believed him..." He couldn't believe the words coming out if his mouth. But they were coming. "I cannot believe that Germany would lie to me, of all people." He shook his head, white hair falling over a single crimson eye. "I thought I taught him better..."

"You actually thought he would let you go!" The American laughed, his hands going to his stomach and holding it. "Oh my god! I thought you were just pulling my leg!"

Prussia shot him a warning look, standing up and pacing. "How in the hell do we get out of here?!"

America looked around, at the door, to the tiny vent that neither of them could fit through unless they both either lost 100 pounds or chopped each other up into pieces and slid each individual, bloody, spewing piece into it, one by one. He then looked back to his cell mate. "I... Have no clue truthfully." He sighed, getting up and standing on his bed. There was a five inch gap in between where the metal wall of their cell ended and where the same blood red stone ceiling started. It was big enough to get an arm through, though nothing else really could fit properly without getting stuck. "I don't suppose you could fit through here, could you? I mean, you are a lot smaller than me, so maybe you could?"

Prussia looked where the American was referring to, getting up and going over to him, standing on the bed. "Give me a boost up." He instructed, lifting up a leg. The other nodded, lifting Prussia up and propping his hands under the other's foot, pushing him up and through the gap, watching as the other fell, the last thing he saw of the Albino man was his foot, blood-covered boot leaving a footprint on his hand. "Be careful." He hissed in warning, trying to peer over the edge of the space, only seeing the top of the other's head, white hair sticking up in spikes.

Prussia rolled his eyes. "Ja, ja." He said quietly, looking around at the room he was now in. It was dimly lit, like the cell he was sharing with America, but this one had no beds, no chairs, not a think inside of it. But strangely enough, he could hear breathing. He looked around, not seeing anything.

Well, not seeing anything until he turned around, that is.


	4. The Little People

Prussia looked around the room, feeling a breath on his neck, making the hair stand on end. He turned, his one crimson eye going wide. Who was behind him scared him more than anything before.

Lithuania stood behind the Prussian, a quivering smirk on his face, his bottle green eyes filled with sadistic rage. "Hello, Prussia." He said, his accent mellow and quiet, but filled with a sort of murderous tone to it. He advanced towards the Albino man, laughing quietly and twitching, his eyes fluttering open and shut as he walked -or limped- towards Prussia, his toothy grin red with blood, something hanging from his teeth. "Did you come to play some... Chess?"

Prussia backed up into the wall, his eyes going to the corner to see three bodies. "Wh-Who are they?" He asked, pointing with his good arm towards the bodies. Lithuania looked over with a manic laugh.

"Oh, Latvia, Estonia, and Poland didn't play right... So I had to punish them." He licked his lips a little. "But man, they were delicious."

Prussia went wide eyed, sweeping his leg under Lithuania, knocking him down and stepping on his back as he ran towards the door, jiggling the knob.

Locked.

The Albino man then ran towards the wall again, jumping up and holding on.

"America! Pull me back in! Hurry!" He yelled, almost screaming, making the American jump up, grabbing his arm. Prussia tried pulling himself up, but the Lithuanian was right behind him, pulling him down. "COULD YOU BE ANY WEAKER?!" He screamed at the top of his lungs, pulling harder.

America pulled as hard as he could, almost too hard. "How much do you weigh?!" He asked, still pulling. He was trying his best, but felt as though something was pulling on the other end.

Prussia growled, pulling up harder. "Just as much as you do, dipshit NOW PULL!"

America pulled one last time, falling back onto the ground. He rubbed his head, looking at what came with him. His eyes went wide, throwing what was in his hand across the room.

Prussia's good arm.

America backed into the wall, hearing screaming and the sounds of flesh tearing away from bone, German cussing and then silence. He was too afraid to go back to where he was sitting earlier, just curling into a ball, shaking. "H-He's dead... A-And I could have stopped his death..." He continued to shake, not crying, just shaking.

He heard a key go into the heavy metal door, two men coming in. America looked up to see who it was, his blue eyes going wide.

France and England.


End file.
